House vs. Home

In the house, shadows linger like unwanted guests,

   the air thick with echoes of forgotten laughter.

   I found a photo, smiles caught in frames,

   where warmth bled through in soft sun-drenched rays.

   A dust-covered chair beckons to be sat upon,

   the light filtering through tattered curtains—

   it whispered truths I never learned until now,

   that walls don’t hold memories—people do,

   laughter, the true color of what we call home.